Sarah's Education (19 page)

‘Did you come?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I did, thanks.’

Sarah felt proud. She’d been gurgling and grunting, feet up and nether parts, fore and aft, exposed, and it had made him come. ‘So, what kind of different? I’m at your command, John.’

‘A shower together, and then we shall see, but something less strenuous, I think.’ He released her wrists. Being freed almost felt as if she’d lost something.

Sarah had never showered with anyone before, not counting the showers at school. She’d thought about having a man with her in the stall, usually when she was having a shower in the morning, but her fantasies had been all about two wet and soapy bodies, sliding on each other, leading to fucking standing up. Her shower with John was nothing like that. It was part romp, part meticulous cleansing. Of course her soaping his cock and balls, and his using a facecloth to wash inside her pussy and then twisting it into a spiral to cleanse her up inside her bum, were sexual acts, but in a relaxed way. That wasn’t surprising, considering the furious activity that preceded their mutual washing.

The most intense moment that they shared under the shower, Sarah thought, was when she drank the water that was cascading down his chest. She considered giving him head with her mouth full of warm water but somehow she never got round to it.

He patted her dry as carefully as if she were a delicate porcelain statuette. That was funny. Twenty minutes earlier he’d been handling her as if she’d been a rubber toy.

They returned to the bedroom hand in hand. Sarah almost felt like skipping. ‘How do you want me?’ she asked.

‘On the bed.’ He scooped her up and tossed her onto it, on her side. It seemed that porcelain statuette time was over. John threw himself after her, head towards her feet. He swivelled in closer, took hold of her right knee and lifted it. His cheek snuggled on her left thigh. ‘I want to get to know you better, physically.’ He added, ‘Not that you aren’t a fascinating creature in many other ways.’

His eyes were inches from her sex. Gentle fingers parted her naked nether lips. He’d been serious. He was actually studying her, inside her pussy. ‘Lovely. Such delicate colours. Such intricacy.’

Sarah felt his tongue, tasting her. It was different than if he’d
been
licking her for her pleasure. She sensed he was savouring the flavour of her and approving, thoroughly.

‘I can guess, from your taste, what you’ve eaten lately,’ he said.

‘Oh?’ She couldn’t help but giggle. Was it possible? Until this moment she’d never have imagined it but now, with him, she half believed it was true.

‘Absolutely. You’re not a vegetarian, but you don’t eat a lot of red meat. Chicken, I think.’

‘Hmm.’ Incredible.

‘You like foreign food: Indian, Chinese, Thai. Yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you eat a fair bit of takeout. Salads, yes, but also –’ He flicked his tongue up and down her slit – ‘hamburgers?’

‘Oh my God! How did you know?’

‘I can tell, from the way you taste. I can taste that famous secret sauce.’

‘Get out!’

‘OK.’ He pulled back. Their eyes met. ‘Well, it also has to do with what little information I was given about you.’

‘I’m relieved, frankly.’ Sarah grinned. ‘Tell me more!’

He leant into her again, tasting her with his tongue and lips.

‘Let me see if I can guess what you like to eat,’ she said.

His shaft was limp on his thigh, a foot away. Sarah reached for it but pulled her fingers back before she touched it. What he was doing, tasting her, fingering her gently, was thickening his cock. It lifted a fraction. She watched in fascination as its slight relaxed curve straightened and it raised up, its head moving in an arc. In under a minute, stimulated only by what his tongue was doing to her, his cock was a rigid column that reached up his belly to just above his navel.

That was about as sincere a compliment as a girl’s pussy could be paid, she thought.

Now that he was fully erect, she was facing his scrotum. Sarah curled her body to bring her face closer. With two delicate fingertips, she moved his heavy sac aside to expose the sensitive area beneath it. Her tongue touched it.

John grunted.

So, he liked that, did he? Very well. Her tongue tickled and laved, working back and to the side, to trace the crease of his groin. He buried his face between the lips of her sex and lapped deep into her. The game had changed, or she’d changed it. She no longer wanted to joke about their eating habits. Her palm cupped his balls. She burrowed, lips mumbling. His cock twitched. Could she get one of his beautiful big balls into her mouth? Sarah stretched her lips wide. How strange, that something so wrinkled could be so lovely. She managed to encompass the bulk of one testicle. Funny, in a way, she had his semen in her mouth, even though he hadn’t ejaculated yet. The thought made her laugh.

‘What?’ he asked.

Sarah released his testicle and explained.

‘Which is best?’ he asked her.

‘I like the taste and I can’t very well swallow it, not while it’s still in your balls.’

‘Then you shall have some to swallow, I promise. To make it fair, Sarah, I’d like you to squirt for me.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘I’ll help.’

It felt as if two of his fingers entered her, hooked up and homed in on her G-spot. He pressed his face closer and slid his tongue between the outer lips of her sex, up high, near where they joined. When he licked, it was along the left side of her clit, half on its sheath, half on its head. How did he know that was the way she liked it best? John was taking his time, tantalising her, not driving her.

To match him, she took the head of his cock into her mouth and idly stroked his shaft between her fingers and her thumb. It was a different sort of sex, for her. There was no urgency, though she knew that urgency would come. Was this what it was like for long-married couples – warm, affectionate, leisurely? Being swamped by lust, getting desperate, was great, but this sort of loving certainly had its charms.

And they’d only met a matter of hours before. Was it that he was so skilled a lover, or was there something deeper developing between them?

Dammit, Sarah, don’t keep falling for your clients!

The pads of his fingers were rotating. She tightened her fingers’ grip a fraction and gently drew on his shaft. A little sigh escaped her. If only this could go on forever.

You lick me; I suck you. We both stroke. Quiet bliss.

Sarah tried something new. She used the head of his cock to draw tiny circles on the flat of her tongue.

John said, ‘Nice.’ Praise from Caesar.

His other hand was on her left breast, just holding it, not moving. In her head, she told him that it was his to hold for as long as he wished. If holding turned to squeezing, to rolling her nipple, that’d be fine, too. Sarah’s lust was there, deep inside her, but calm. Either of them could have stirred it up at any moment. When one of them did, it would become a tropical storm, a hurricane of desire. Meanwhile, she’d wallow in its calm warmth.

Sarah felt incredibly relaxed. Not all of her muscles were limp though. Now that she was thinking about it, her thighs were quite tense. The fingers of the hand she was moving John’s shaft with gripped him tighter. Inside – inside her sex – although she hadn’t felt her clit tingle yet, she felt as if the walls of her vagina were seeping. Yes, her lust was rising, but in a different way than she’d ever felt before. She was melting into it, except for her thighs, which had now begun to tremble uncontrollably.

John’s tongue deserted her clit. He sucked one lip of her sex into his mouth and closed his teeth on it, not biting but threatening to.

Sarah lifted his cock off her tongue for long enough to ask, ‘More licking, please, John.’

He chuckled. ‘Good girl.’ His tongue went back to her clit but with more pressure.

Sarah took his knob between her lips and let it rest on the flat of her tongue. Her hand pumped in long, strong strokes.
She
decided that, unless he told her otherwise, she’d masturbate him into his climax while she kept her lips and tongue relaxed. Her mouth would be a receptacle, nothing more, not until he’d filled it.

Her thighs were vibrating. Tension had crept up on her. She was rigid from her waist down. A climax was on its way, but a different sort of climax. Her clit was engorged and extra sensitive, but her orgasm wasn’t going to come from there. It was going to come from deep inside, maybe one of those vaginal climaxes that she’d read about and dismissed as mere fantasy.

She was a knot, paralysed with lust except for her one hand and arm that were urging the man to give her the essence that made him male. Her greedy mouth and tongue were waiting, waiting …

It was like a cough of joy that convulsed Sarah’s entire body. Her vagina clenched tight. As if it had been full of fluid, it ejaculated a great gush of liquid ecstasy.

Perhaps that triggered John, because he flooded her mouth. She swallowed. He, and she, spurted again and again. At last it stopped.

Sarah said, ‘You were right. That
was
something different.’

‘I’m drained,’ he admitted. ‘Snack time? A nibble and a glass of champagne?’

‘Nibble what?’ she asked.

‘Food, I promise.’

‘You know something?’ she said.

‘What?’

‘We haven’t fucked yet, not in the usual way, I mean.’

‘You’re insatiable. We’ll get to it, I promise.’

Sarah got up and walked towards the bathroom door where two fluffy white robes hung, and reached for one.

John said, ‘No. Stay naked.’

‘May I go fix my face?’

‘Do you have any lipstick that doesn’t taste like candy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then use that.’ He rolled over to the bedside phone.

His request, that she paint her lips with more mature lipstick, seemed to say that she’d graduated, in his eyes, from the role of a ‘naughty schoolgirl’, to a toy to play with, to a woman to make love to. It felt good.

13

SARAH HAD HEARD
of a book called
The Naked Lunch
. Though she’d never read it she understood it to be mainly about drug addiction and sex. Here she was, having a ‘Naked Supper’, and although she hadn’t taken any drugs or smoked anything and had only drunk a little champagne, she felt she was high. Infatuation can be intoxicating.

She’d discovered that with Jack. This time, she resolved, she’d enjoy the trip but wouldn’t confuse it with love. It was hard though, sitting, bare, across a small table from the broad strong chest of a man who’d already taught her so much and who would, she was sure, teach her much more. They still had twenty-four hours of their date left. That was a long time for a tryst. Even so, it was far too short.

She could excuse herself for feeling so emotional towards John. He had everything a girl could want in a man. Maybe he wasn’t movie-star handsome but his face appealed to her. He had a fine physique, a powerful personality and he was an incredible lover. John was very intelligent, as well. That was important. She could never really love a man who wasn’t bright, brighter than she was.

Had Jack been bright? She hadn’t thought about that with him.

John reached across the table to offer her mouth another of the lobster puffs. Beyond him, on a side table, stood a pink plastic shopping bag marked ‘Intimates’ in gold script. It had been delivered along with their supper. He hadn’t offered to tell her what was in it and she hadn’t asked. Intimates, she knew, was the name of a chichi boutique in the hotel’s
concourse
. Had he ordered a gift for her, or was it for him to take home to his girlfriend? She could only hope it was for her – maybe lingerie?

John dabbed his lips with a napkin and asked her, ‘Enough?’

‘Plenty, thanks.’

‘More champagne?’

‘Later.’

‘Want to watch a movie?’

Sarah looked at the bed then straight into his eyes. You know damned well what it is that I want, John.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I want you to fuck me, or something.’

‘Be more specific.’

‘How can I be? You’re the teacher. I want to learn. What’s on the curriculum, teach?’

‘In general terms?’

Right – he liked her to talk dirty. She could do that. ‘You could bugger me again, if you liked. You could fuck my face. Do anything you like to me, just so you make me be your … bitch. You know I’m horny for you, John. Use me.’ She cocked her head in thought. ‘What I really want, I’ve just realised, is to be defiled. Would you defile me, please? Just don’t make me wait for it.’

‘Waiting can be fun.’

‘Please?’

‘That movie I caught you watching.’

‘Yes?’

‘You liked it – the woman tied to the bed, being teased.’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘That was hot.’ Sarah glanced around the room. ‘Do you have some rope hidden somewhere?’

‘Not rope, exactly. Onto the bed with you, Sarah, spreadeagled, just like in the movie. I’m going to make that fantasy of yours come true.’

Sarah obeyed, quivering with anticipation. John brought the pink Intimates bag to the bed. From it, he took four sets of manacles, white leather bands that were lined with imitation ocelot fur, that buckled and were joined in pairs by chains. He held one pair up.

‘You want to try this?’

‘Please.’

‘Some women get panicky the first time they’re fully restrained.’

‘I won’t. I didn’t when you tied my wrists behind my back, did I?’

‘No, you didn’t. Very well.’ He pulled her ankles far apart and fastened each to a brass scroll at the foot of the bed. Next, her arms were extended high and wide, and secured to the bedhead. He was strong, strong enough to stretch her body achingly taut.

‘Comfy?’

‘I’m fine. “Comfy” wouldn’t work, would it?’

‘Of course, you’re a pain slut. I was forgetting.’

It thrilled her to be so matter-of-factly referred to in such a way. Sarah let her eyelids droop and deepened her voice. ‘Please remember, John. I need it.’ She was very aware that her strained position narrowed her waist, spread the fans of her ribs and made her breasts more prominent. How could any man resist?